To Live Without The Dead
by Easywitheyesclosed
Summary: POST WAR: Neville is plagued by nightmares of people he loved and still loves, but one particular nightmare disturbs him the most, compelling him to reach out to the one who needs him desperately. One shot. Warning: Mature themes.


**Hello and thank you for reading. Warning for gore and sexuality, and a tiny bit of language. This is a post-war one shot. My very first Harry Potter fanfiction. Please be nice when (if) you review. If something in the story confuses you, it will be explained at the bottom and you can read if you like. This is just a little something I wrote from 12:00am - 2:30am just for practice and I didn't think about it. I just wrote. So I hope you enjoy it for what it is. :)  
**

To Live Without The Dead

_Their backs were turned away, so Neville couldn't identify them. His throat was parched, dry as the Sahara desert; as he parted his lips of stone and a crackled gasp of breath strained out rather than the words he had hoped for. The sounds of quick footsteps were all that he could hear, despite the fact that no one in his field of vision was moving a muscle. The young man searched wildly, tossing his head in every direction to discover who was creeping closer, seeing nothing but the daunting alleys of the Department of Mysteries stretched far behind him. The darkness threatened to demolish the last straw of courage he was clutching tightly. He hardly felt like a Gryffindor, rooted stock still to the frozen floor as he watched his shuddering breath escape his lips in fogs of condensation. _

_He gave up the search and started to shift forward again with the intent to redirect his attention to those mysterious backs. A silent scream tore from his mouth when he turned to see a boy covered head to toe in nothing but blood. "R...Ron" came his mangled whisper, the first audible noise he had mustered. The stench of the living corpse that eerily resembled the red-head nearly made him choke. Viscous, bright red blood continued to ooze thickly from its wide eyes. Its skin had rotten and bits of its lip were dangling crudely from his face, exposing a set of browning teeth. Two bony hands latched onto his forearms, locking him in place. The flesh of its arms was stringy like noodles, stretched loosely over the thin, almost glowing bone. Neville felt helpless and mind numbingly afraid, sensations he was quite miserably accustomed to. Its jaw went wide, and it cackled wildly, identical to Bellatrix's chillingly high pitched voice…_

_All of a sudden it didn't smell dead anymore, and Neville was practically blinded by flashing coloured lights. The noise was deafening, just as unbearable as the silence he'd been experiencing moments before had been. There were enthusiastic cheers and cat calls rising from the crowd of people that surrounded him, and only then did he look up and notice a scarcely-covered body glistening with sweat. Her face was painted beautifully. Red lipstick traced over her lips and dramatic dark eye shadow made her captivating eyes grab him, and once she had him locked, her lips curled into a sinister smirk. Men started to climb onto the stage like animals, racing towards her with unbridled lust. A few clawed at her, ripping off what remained of her clothing before kissing her skin so violently and hungrily that it appeared as if they were trying to eat her. She threw her head back and moaned loudly in ecstasy…_

"_Hermione, since when do you smoke?" he asked her, furrowing his brows. Though that was the least of matters he felt concerned about, knowing what else she did behind closed doors._

_She didn't answer; instead she opened her mouth to slowly exhale a cloud of smoke. They were alone, and she was sitting on his bed while he stood a few feet from her. He sighed in frustration._

"_I want you to stop doing this. I can't let you sell yourself any longer" he said firmly, though he felt as though his voice could falter and break at any moment. She was just a shell of the girl she used to be, a body that hosted a soul expired. Seeing her like this was worse than his annual trips to St Mungo's to visit what was left of his parents._

"_I know you miss your family, and Ron, and I miss him too. I'm sorry things turned out this way, but we've got to keep moving forward. I'm here for you, and we can do this together."_

_Hermione butted her cigarette out on his bedside table, staring vacantly at him as though he hadn't spoken. It made him mad. _

"_Hermione, answer me! Don't you know I love you? Don't you know I __**love**__ you" he protested, his voice rising to a desperate scream. _

_At this point, she smiled, but it was hollow. There was no light in her dark eyes. "Rape me, Neville."_

_His eyes widened in horror. _

"_Come on…"_

_But before he could respond, she grabbed her breasts and sat on her knees and started shrieking. _

"_Rape me! RAPE ME! RAPE ME! RAPE MEEEE!" _

Neville awoke with a start, just as two tears slid down his cheeks. Oh good Merlin, it was only a dream. But it had all felt terribly real, and somehow, _possible_.

But after a few groggy moments, the logical part of his brain (though often tucked so deeply in the recess of his mind that it was useless, as Snape had so often reminded him) kicked in. Yes, Ron was dead, perished in the dreadful war that scarred him along with so many others with relentless nightmares. He'd been gone for a year, and there was no way he'd rise again to come haunt him now, unless of course he was turned into an Inferi, and in that case spells had been cast on his body to prevent that from ever happening. Hermione was the brightest witch he'd ever had the pleasure of knowing, and while she was depressed, she'd never sink so low as to dabble in anything that would risk her health, and above all, give herself away so easily.

No matter, Neville couldn't just lie there in his sweat and tears despairing over the whole thing. He had to go find her and tell her the truth. And so he sprang from his bed and darted to the washroom to splash his face with ice cold water. He just couldn't change his clothes fast enough. It felt as if everything he knew was at stake.

His breath was heavy as he sprinted down the street, the soles of his shoes slapping the pavement hard. It was frigid cold outside in the middle of Autumn, and he hadn't even thought to wear a jacket. Fortunately, he couldn't feel a thing. His surroundings were a blur around him, and he knew that he'd never run this vigorously for any reason, for _anyone_, in nineteen years of living. He knew just where he'd find her, but he hoped it wouldn't be too late.

Neville must've ran past thousands of girls by now, and a few times he swore he caught sight of her bushy brunette locks only to be mistaken. And still, he passed hundreds of girls, all with different shades of hair and body types. They glanced at him as he ran by, some smiling and some just staring blankly. He paid no mind, because none of them could compare to Hermione's beauty. Neville could confidently bet that there wasn't a single girl in this whole city who was half as bright or as talented as the witch he knew and loved with all his heart. Perhaps even this whole country, maybe even the world.

He stopped. Only one thing could move him stop moving, and that was her face in the distance. She looked so lonely and _lost_, standing there in the muggle park she played in as a child. How the hell could this even be _allowed_? When was Hermione Granger ever lost? It broke his heart.

He rushed over to her side. Though it had only taken her half a minute to register that he was standing beside her, it had felt like agony, like bloody hours. Patience wasn't even a concept.

"Oh, Neville-" she started, visibly shaken and surprised to see him.

He pressed his lips against hers.

And he was closed in darkness and silence once more, but this time, it was comfortable. Neville could feel the texture of her lips. They weren't soft as he had imagined they would be, but rough and chapped. She probably hadn't been drinking enough water. His hand gently cupped her cheek for a moment before he reluctantly broke the kiss.

The bushy-haired witch stared at him, stunned, unmoving.

"Hermione, don't you know I love you?" he whispered, fighting the burning tears that were beginning to well up in his eyes. It surprised himself how steady and sure his voice sounded despite his desire to crawl into a hole.

Then she did something that he really didn't expect at all. She smiled warmly, for the first time in many months.

Their lips met again in a deeper kiss, and her arms slipped around his shoulders, pulling him closer.

"What's the meaning of this? Did something happen?" she breathed, still a little bewildered by it all.

"It doesn't matter, love, I just needed to know you're still the same."

Hermione frowned a little, as if she was chiding a child for making a negligent comment. "Of course I'm still the same. What on earth has gotten into you, Neville?"

He grinned widely, feeling indescribably relieved to be held by her arms rather than Ron's bony ones. Neville wrapped his arms around her waist in turn and looked into her eyes.

"I guess I…well…I just woke up and realized that I needed to see you right now."

Literally.

She rolled her eyes, trying to pass it off like she was unaffected, as if he was acting like some foolish, lovesick idiot. Which he sort of was, but he was completely justified. He'd just had a nightmare that she was a dying drugged-up whore, for Merlin's sake…

"Well, whatever happened with you, I better hear about it later" she said firmly, meeting his gaze levelly.

"Promise," Neville murmured, the grin on his face never faltering.

She finally matched his elated expression, her otherwise dull eyes twinkling with joy as she entwined her fingers with his. Nothing else needed to be said, except maybe for three commonly overused, but very important words.

"I love you," Hermione said, then buried her face in the crook of his neck. She sighed, allowing his scent to fill up her senses, and his warmth to calm her shivering body. Hundreds of girls in the city, a staggering more in the country and even the world, and Neville couldn't even begin to think of them. He never did before, so why would he now? He was beyond grateful to finally have her after many years of waiting.

Through the storm they'd reach the shore together. It wasn't difficult to believe, or hold onto hope, anymore. It was right in front of him.

* * *

**The following is a FAQ. Don't read it if you prefer the mystery of it all ;)**

**FAQ:**

**Q. I don't understand the beginning shift between the Department of Mysteries and the club scene.**

**A: I modelled Neville's nightmare on my own nightmares. I've experienced a lot of elements in those nightmares repeatedly so I know how it feels. They are confusing and fast paced because that is exactly how nightmares are (at least mine), they switch locations at the drop of a dime and things don't exactly make sense. Conversations seem rushed and fast and very dramatic in nightmares and I was trying to capture that chaos.  
**

**Q: Where is Harry?**

**A: Harry is with Ginny, he's alive. Of course he supports Hermione but it doesn't matter how much support you get from your friends, leaving something as traumatic as death behind is difficult. Neville knows that and Hermione does too, but he's determined to do this with her. **

**Q: It happened very fast. Are Neville and Hermione suddenly lovers?**

**A: The idea is that he's loved her since school, and Hermione always loved Neville back, but just as a friend (or so she thought.) After Ron's death, she did isolate herself but that doesn't mean her feelings for Neville faded. They pretty much became stronger, she just tried not to acknowledge them.**

**Q: Inspired by anything?**

**A: Yes. U2's "With Or Without You" came on the radio and in my mind I thought it'd be interesting to see Hermione in the position of a whore and Neville in the helpless boyfriend position. The song has many interpretations but that's the one that inspired me to write this. Also, the "rape me" stuff was inspired by Nirvana's song. Nightmares inspired by my own.  
**

**Thanks for reading :)  
**


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